


Peach and pickles.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's Iwaizumi week 2016 [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Iwaizumi Week 2016, M/M, Smut, Trans Iwaizumi Hajime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 20:41:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7403413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a bad day, it doesn't take much to set off Iwaizumi's insecurities. He's lucky that not only does he have the team looking out for him, but the other third years who are determined to prove it's okay for him to love himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peach and pickles.

**Author's Note:**

> This did not go in the planned direction. It practically wrote itself.

It isn’t that he’s fragile or shy. Much the opposite, Iwaizumi brims with confidence and strength. But just like every teenage boy, he has his insecurities. Sometimes, these insecurities blossom into anxieties and panic attacks. All it took was something to set it off.

“Uh, hey, Iwaizumi? We found this in the changing rooms. D’you know who it belongs to?” The captain of the basketball team is holding up a sports bra, and Iwaizumi unconsciously crosses his arms across his chest a little tighter.

“N-no. Probably best to hand it in to lost and found.”

“Oh, good idea. Thanks for the help.” The basketball captain leaves and Iwaizumi swallows down a lump in his throat, pressing a thumb against his chest where his binder starts. He wonders if he can get away with wearing it through afternoon practice, seeing as he’s never going to get the sports bra back now. 

“Oiiii, Iwaizumi. What’s taking so long?” Hanamaki pokes his head round the classroom door. The volleyball main team each lunch together on the roof, and Iwaizumi is usually the first there, waiting for the others. When he isn’t – a rare occasion – the team sends someone else to come and get him. 

“Yes. I’m coming. Sorry.” Instantly, Hanamaki picks up on how distressed he seems, gathering his items in a messy flurry of panic and attempting to look calm by melding his face into a blank slate. Hands in his pockets, Hanamaki strides over and searches himself on the vacant table in front of Iwaizumi’s. 

“No rush, we’ve got all lunch.”

“I know! I know.” Iwaizumi takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes before reopening to meet Hanamaki’s, with an unusually serious expression. He packs up his bag, slings it over his shoulder, and the two make their way towards the roof. In a quiet stairwell, Hanamaki pulls him over to the side.

“What’s going on? You’ve got the same expression as when you first came out to us.” Iwaizumi wrings his hands nervously.

“I left my sports bra in the changing rooms. Someone found it.”

“Oh shi-... Do they know? That it’s yours?” 

“No, thankfully. However I stupidly suggested handing it in to lost and found, so I’m never getting it back.” Hanamaki sighed, squeezing his shoulder.

“You know you can ask us for help, right?” With a scoff, Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and knocked the hand away.

“What, like you’re gonna go and get it?” Hanamaki grins and Iwaizumi isn’t quick enough to realise what’s happening before Hanamaki is sprinting away back through the corridors. If he wasn’t wearing his binder, Iwaizumi would have chased after him and caught up easily. The slightly constricted feeling from where he’s been partially panicking convinces him not to. Sighing, he trudges up to the roof and slings his bag down in the empty space between Oikawa and Kunimi.

He feels comfortable here. Not only do the team know, but he isn’t the only Trans boy in their group. Long ago, back in Kiitagawa, the first years were ‘encouraged’ to change first, so that Iwaizumi could comfortably change afterwards without worrying any of them were transphobic. That had changed when Kunimi had one day walked in, having forgotten his bag, and frozen when he’d seen Iwaizumi in nothing more than boxers and a binder.

_“You’re like me. I thought I was the only one.”_

When Kunimi and Kindaichi came to Aobajosai, there was a collective decision that they didn’t need to separate out changing times. In times of trouble, such as shark week, Iwaizumi and Kunimi would be casually passing each other painkillers, pads, and tampons throughout practice. Thanks to their attitude towards it, the stigma around their biological processes had been completely disregarded by the entire team. They’re still careful around others though. It could be dangerous if someone with horrible intentions finds out.

“Hey, I though Makki went to get you.”

“He did.”

“Where is he, Iwa-chan?” Iwaizumi pulled his bento box out of his bag with a hefty sigh.

“Gone to get a _thing_ from lost and found.”

“Did you forget it _again_ , Iwaizumi?” He shoots a glare at Yahaba which isn’t very effective, seeing as he’s shovelling rice into his mouth. Oikawa dramatically drapes himself over Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“Well you are certainly not practicing in your binder. Captain’s orders, for your health and safety.”

“I don’t have to, idiot. Hanamaki went to get it, remember?” Oikawa huffs at the flaw in his roundabout way of caring. Matsukawa snickers at the failed attempt, the same as Kyoutani who is a little less subtle about the amusement it brings him.

“So mean. All of you. You’re big meanies.” Yahaba leans over to pat Oikawa on the knee with a sarcastic ‘there, there’. At the same time, the door to the roof opens and Hanamaki comes out with his hands in his pockets and a suspicious lump under his shirt. He has this grin on his face and as he wriggles in between Matsukawa and Watari, he untucks his shirt, pulls out the sports bra and passes it over.

“Your upper-decker flopper-stopper, kind sir.” Iwaizumi snatches the bra from his hands and stuffs it haphazardly into his bag.

“Would you please _**stop**_ coming up with stupid names?”

“Someone should’ve told your mum that 17 years ago.” Matsukawa and Watari manage to move their lunches out the way just in time as Iwaizumi lunges across the circle with a challenging grin to tackle Hanamaki, and they wind up play fighting just a little bit away from the group, rolling on the floor and attempting to slap each other’s cheeks hard enough to hurt, but gently enough that it won’t leave a remaining mark.

Iwaizumi is winning – obviously – when he suddenly cringes and pulls away with a wheezing cough, tugging at his front. Instantly, the attention is back on them, and Yahaba is the closest so he rubs Iwaizumi’s back soothingly. Something is drastically wrong, and he’s starting to hyperventilate.

“Senpai, are you okay? Hey, you need to breathe. Iwaizumi, take a deep breath.” Oikawa is coming over to kneel in front of him, but it’s Kunimi who moves to Iwaizumi’s side and provides the most help, sliding his hand up Iwaizumi’s back and frowning in disappointment. 

“His binder’s too tight.”

“How do you know that?”

“I should be able to get a finger between body and binder, but instead it feels like it’s digging into the skin.” Oikawa bites his lip nervously, watching Iwaizumi try to recover his pace, but he’s just left completely breathless. He knows, in the back of his mind, that Iwaizumi must have done it up too tightly because he was feeling insecure. 

“Iwa-chan, we need to loosen it.”

“N-no. Not here. E-Everyone can s-see.” 

“No one’s looking. It’ll be quick.” Iwaizumi shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. He’s not going to let anyone remove his shirt or adjust his binder, not whilst in public. But he’s starting to feel dizzy and faint, so he knows he won’t make it to the bathroom.

“I don’t want anyone to see.”

“We gotcha covered.” Matsukawa shrugs off his blazer and holds it up to block Iwaizumi off from the majority of those on the rooftop, and the notion catches on as Hanamaki, Kyoutani, Kindaichi, and Watari do the same to shield him from all the way round. Feeling safer, he let his arms down and allowed Oikawa to unbutton his shirt, Yahaba tugging it off from behind as Kunimi deftly worked to adjust the binder. 

“Ah, it really was tight... There’s imprints.”

“Geez, Iwa-chan, you really put yourself in danger.” His shirt was placed back on, Oikawa’s knuckles brushing over the binder material as he gently did the buttons up. It was times like these that he was grateful Iwaizumi didn’t wear the cream cardigan, as it would have been an extra obstacle in fixing the binder.

“Yeah, I know.” One by one, the blazer barricade comes down and the team settle to each lunch like nothing has happened. They eat in relative peace, the same random topics of conversations they usually have, coupled with heated debates, stupid comments, and bright laughter. It’s only towards the end of lunch that Watari resurfaces an unspoken concern.

“Iwaizumi, why _did_ you wear it too tightly?” Their Ace sets down his empty bento box with a shamefully guilty expression. He chews on his bottom lip, leaving the others silent in the tension, waiting for his explanation.

“It’s really stupid.”

“Well we figured that much.”

“Mattsun!”

“What? S’true.”

“Are you _going_ to let me speak?” They fall silent as Iwaizumi takes a deep, steadying breath and slowly exhales.

“I- I think people are starting to suspect things. On the way home yesterday, I- I noticed this group of girls staring at me, so I asked them why...” He paused, looking into his lap with his entire hunched body language _screaming_ ‘insecure!’

“They asked what workouts I did for my chest because it was bigger than theirs. I had my binder on, they- they shouldn’t have shown! I’m not-... I mean... I don’t _want_ a big chest. I didn’t ask for this.” For a moment, there was awkward silence. 

“... So? You’re just ripped. You have guns for arms and a 6-pack. Of _course_ people are gonna think your chest is big. Haven’t you seen those calendars of shredded people? Huge pecs.”

“KyouKen-chan, _what_?!”

“What?” He glares at Oikawa with a soft growl in his throat before Yahaba puts a gentle hand on his knee.

“You’re gayer than you let on.”

“... That’s because I’m actually _gay_. You fuckin’ know that, you moron. We’re _dating_.” Their second year setter snickers and leans over to rest his head on Kyoutani’s shoulder. Matsukawa shakes his head a little in amusement, before turning back to Iwaizumi with a relaxed expression.

“He’s right though. If you’re not comfortable telling people, just cover it up with buffness.” 

“But I don’t want to have to cover it up! I don’t want these fucking things in the first place!” He slaps a hand over his chest with a resounding thud, enough to make Kindaichi wince. 

“I- I didn’t ask to be born a g-girl.” That’s when they notice light reflecting off droplets that fall from Iwaizumi’s face to his lap, head hung low so they can’t see his full expression. Slowly, Oikawa shuffles onto his knees facing Iwaizumi, and leans in to hug him, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi’s torso and pressing a cheek against his shaking shoulders.

“It’s okay... It’s okay, Hajime. You’re a boy, no matter what your chest looks like, or what you were designated with at birth. You’re a boy. Your body doesn’t determine your gender. _You_ do, and if anyone has a problem with that, they’ve got the rest of us to get through first.” Nods of agreements come from every person in the circle, and Iwaizumi lifts his head in time to see this. Kunimi slumps against Iwaizumi’s other side, as if he’s making himself comfortable.

“It doesn’t matter how insecure you are, we’ll be here to reassure you. No matter what other people say, we’ll support you. You’re the manliest out of us all.” From anyone else, Iwaizumi would have been sceptical. He would have had his doubts, and later insecurities would have completely erased the supporting comment. 

But this came from Kunimi. This came from someone who knew exactly what he was going through, who had been through the same sort of things, who was a trans boy like him. Words that would have only been _considered_ coming from others, sounded solid when it came from Kunimi.

“Thank you.” 

Everything is going okay, and Iwaizumi is at his usual level of calm confidence for the rest of the day. That is – until after practice. He’s got his sports bra on underneath his Aobajosai uniform, but it’s more for support than binding, and it shows much more than he’d prefer. After earlier though, there’s no way he’s going to risk wearing his binder for practice. 

It’s in the last five minutes that Iwaizumi jumps way too far to the side and too close to the net, and the off-putting realisation of this distracts him from focussing on the landing. He falls to his left, and hisses in pain as he feels the anchor stake of the post scrap along his side. It’s too painful that there’s no damage, and he’s pretty sure there’s going to be a huge bruise.

“Iwa-chan!” 

“Iwaizumi!” Matsukawa is closest, crouching down to check Iwaizumi is okay, but he grits his teeth and pushes the taller away.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah. A little sore, but nothing serious.” Wordlessly, Matsukawa offers him a hand and pulls him to his feet. Then, he pales, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“I don’t think you _are_ okay, man.” He gestures towards the side Iwaizumi landed on, and green eyes widen when he spots blood.

“... Well, shit.” He tugs his shirt up to just below the bra line, revealing a large scrape that’s red and patterned with flakes of skin that haven’t fully torn off, blood oozing out from a deep cut where the edge of the anchor stake has pierced through the flesh. Now that he can see it, it starts to hurt. He registers the burn when it had felt numb before, and shudders at a droplet of blood dribbling down his side.

“Come on, let’s get this treated.” He’s steered over to the Coaches bench, the medical kit already prepped. Iwaizumi sits down, tugging his shirt off to make it easier to treat the cut. He’s passed a cotton pad soaked with antiseptic and is halfway through thoroughly wiping into the deep cut when the door to the gymnasium opens. His head jolts up and he freezes, making eye contact with the basketball captain, who is also frozen in the doorway.

He has a note in his hand, probably for Irihata and concerning the schedule for club rotation in using the gym, so Iwaizumi knows it’s nothing more than cruel coincidence. He’s wearing the same sports bra the Captain asked who it belonged to. He isn’t wearing his shirt, his chest on display. His breasts are noticeable and Iwaizumi feels himself stop breathing. It feels like time has stopped until Oikawa notices what’s going on and breaks away from practice to jog over to the basketball captain.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh, is Irihata-sensei here?”

“Yes. Is this note for him? Great, I’ll pass it on for you. Bye-bye now!” As he’s pushing the other boy out the gymnasium, he leans forwards and whispers threateningly in his ear.

_“You tell anyone what you saw and I’ll **desecrate** your reputation.” _ Threat in place, Oikawa puts on a cheery grin and turns back to the team who watch with worry.

“No need to panic! Oikawa-san has it aaaaall under control~. Now, let’s get the equipment away and head home, hmm?” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument and he leaves the others to pack things up whilst he jogs over to Iwaizumi and crouches down in front of him.

“Iwa-”

“He saw. Oikawa, he- he saw. He _knows_.”

“He won’t tell anyone.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know that! F-fuck, Oikawa, the whole school is going to know by tomorrow. They’re- They’re going to call me a girl. They’re going to- to use female pronouns. Oh god, Tooru, what if they get hold of my _birth name_?!” He’s starting to panic now. He’s breathing heavily and his eyes are dilated and he shakes in insecurity. Gently, Oikawa places a hand on each of Iwaizumi’s bare shoulders, circling his thumbs.

“Hey, that’s not going to happen. I said I have it under control, didn’t I? It won’t happen, Hajime. I promise.” Iwaizumi doesn’t answer. He’s looking down, arms tightly crossed over his chest. His lips move repetitively, but Oikawa can’t hear it.

“... Hajime?” He leans in closer, ear practically pressed to Iwaizumi’s lips.

“-boy, I’m a boy, I’m a boy. I- I – I am a boy... But I don’t- I don’t have boy parts. Am I boy? I- I’m a boy, but...” 

“Hey! Hajime, that’s enough! Listen to me, okay? You _are_ a boy! There’s no such thing a ‘boy parts’ or ‘girl parts’! You have a vagina and breasts, but that’s not your gender! Don’t you _dare_ question yourself just because somebody saw!” One of the poles for the net clatters to the ground as Hanamaki and Matsukawa drop it, running over immediately. The other members look like they want to do the same, but Coach Mizoguchi gives them a look that tells them to let the third years sort it out themselves. It’s reasonable, because they always do things as a four, and too many people trying to help would simply overwhelm Iwaizumi completely.

Matsukawa treats Iwaizumi’s cut with a gentle hand, placing a gauze over it as he hisses at the sensation. It’s a welcome distraction that pulls him out of the insecurities of his mind. He takes a moment to process Oikawa’s words and then nods.

“I-... Yeah, sorry. I’m sorry. I just-... Fuck, I hate this body. It makes me hate myself. I fucking- I _hate_ that it doesn’t match what I want it to.” Hanamaki moves from uselessly watching towards the clubrooms with determination etched onto his features.

“I’m gonna go pack all our shit up, then we’re coming over. We’ll prove you can love your body and yourself.” There’s a promise in his words that leaves Iwaizumi with heated cheeks and the tips of his ears burning, practically _feeling_ the matching smirks Oikawa and Matsukawa wear. Oikawa quickly wipes it off with a serious consideration.

“That’s only with your consent, Iwa-chan.”

“... Yeah. I... I want that. If you can do it.” Oikawa smiles and nods, hands on hips as he observes the underclassmen cleaning up, all whilst Matsukawa keeps an arm wrapped supportively around Iwaizumi’s waist, tightening his grip in firm reassurance whenever Iwaizumi flinches from the pain in his other side. It still stings; still burns, and the bottom of his sports bra rubs over the scrape in exactly the wrong place.

“I don’t know, Iwaizumi. I think we should wait until that’s healed over first.”

“No. No, please. I need it. I know it sounds stupid, but I _need_ that reassurance. That- That my body is okay to love, even though it’s... It’s...” He trails off, but his nose scrunching up in distaste speaks volumes. He regards himself with disgust, missing the sad, almost hurt expression that flickers on Matsukawa’s face.

“You’re handsome. Handsome and ruggedly sexy.” Iwaizumi snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Tell that to the fucking meatballs on my chest.”

“The location of your balls does not change the fact I find you damn attractive.” Oikawa is the one who snorts this time, accompanied with an ugly guffaw. Iwaizumi gives a chuckle of his own, if only because Oikawa’s laugh is infectious.

“Oi, I’m done! Let’s get going!” Laden with bags, Hanamaki waves from the changing room door and Iwaizumi pulls on his shirt before standing.

“You’re not getting back into your binder?”

“I figured it would get in the way later.” Iwaizumi falls into step next to Hanamaki, who wears a smirk.

“Good thinking. It appears we’re on the same page.” 

Walking home takes too long. Walking home takes _far_ too long. Because dammit, his mind has been given something else to feed on other than doubts and insecure thoughts, and Iwaizumi feels heat gathering between his legs. He swallows, looking around to make sure there’s no one other than the third years around, and cups his crotch with one hand.

It’s warm, and he’s pretty sure – wet. His body feels the same eagerness as he does, begging for love and attention in a more needy way than Iwaizumi would ever verbally convey. All they’re doing is _walking_ , but he can feel himself unravelling because he knows what they’re going to do to him.

By the time they arrive at his home, vacant thanks to his mother working long hours and no father to speak of, Iwaizumi is raring to go. He could say the same for two of the other three, Hanamaki and Oikawa with notable erections straining against the front of their pants, desperate to be freed. A shiver of anticipation runs down Iwaizumi’s spine as he unlocks the front door and steps aside to let them in.

As soon as the door closes behind him, he finds lips latched onto his neck and hands on his hips, belonging to two different people. A sharp gasp escapes him, followed by a low moan. Luckily, one of the four is coherent enough to stop things getting out of hand.

“Tooru, ‘Hiro, back off. Let’s at least get in the bedroom first.” Oikawa whines as he pulls his mouth away from Iwaizumi’s neck, leaving a throbbing red mark that has, ultimately, turned Iwaizumi’s sexual desire up to max. The hands on his hips teasingly linger, the touch turning feather light and trailing down to his outer-thighs, pressing just enough to be felt through the material. 

“Takehiro, stop hogging him to yourself!” Oikawa grips Iwaizumi’s wrist with surprising gentleness and tugs him away from lustfully skilled hands. Matsukawa has neatly placed their discarded shoes and bags in the appropriate places, and wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s waist to steal him away from Oikawa. He hums with a smug tone.

“Bedroom. I’ll bring him up once you’re both in there.” Verbally protesting but physically obeying, Oikawa and Hanamaki stomp off up the stairs and along the hallway. Iwaizumi is resting with his back against Matsukawa’s front, and his chin nestled amongst spiky hair. Huffing with amusement, Iwaizumi looks directly up, met with Matsukawa looking directly down and pressing their noses together with the softest ‘boop’ possible.

“Hi.”

“Hi~.”

“How long are you going to hold me captive?”

“Hmm, a few more seconds. Why?”

“Because I’m _really_ fucking turned on.” Matsukawa laughs, hearty but quiet. He won’t do anything sexual to Iwaizumi, not unless he asks for it, because Matsukawa is on the asexual spectrum. He _can_ feel sexual attraction, and gets turned on, but it’s few and far between. Right now is apparently not one those moments. However, he would happily give Iwaizumi what he wants if he asks for it specifically from Matsukawa, but he thinks Iwaizumi will be okay with attention from the other two – who have much higher sex drives.

“Well, I think I can let you go, but it’s gonna cost you.” Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrow in a way that Matsukawa finds adorable, paired with a small pout he probably doesn’t know he’s making. 

“I’m thinking... Your shirt, your shorts, and a kiss. In that order, of course.” Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi tugs his shirts off and drops it to the side, feeling Matsukawa’s hands move upwards to smooth over his abs so he can access the waistband of his shorts and push them down to his ankles, kicking them off with no care for where they land.

“Sexy.”

“Shut up. What kind of kiss did you want?” Warm, calloused thumbs rub over the sensitive part of his stomach, just above his bellybutton, and Iwaizumi finds himself pressing into the touch with a held-back moan, squeezing his eyes closed to try and focus on the feeling. From above, soft lips press against his, light enough to leave him wanting more, but enough to feel romantic. He presses back, fighting the urge to part his own lips and encourage tongue. Matsukawa has previously stated his dislike for ‘sharing saliva by the bucket load’. Too soon, the lips pull away and the hands move to the small of his back to nudge him away.

“Go on. They’re probably getting impatient.”

“Aren’t you coming to watch?”

“Tempting, but something tells me they’re going to run you ragged until you admit you love your body as much as they do. I’ll get aftercare snacks and drinks ready.” When Iwaizumi smiles, it’s soft and wobbles at the edges with tender emotion. 

“Thanks. Feel free to come up if you feel like joining in.”

“I assure you that I will, _if_ that happens.” Iwaizumi understands that it’s a rare occurrence for Matsukawa to do more than watch – rare as in, it does happen, but it’s never penetrative – so he steals one more kiss before making his way up the stairs. 

He tries to hide how eager he is, but his body trembles with keenness, his lips are dry which is the complete opposite to his crotch, and his skin feels like it’s on fire. He’s pretty sure he’s sweating like they’ve already gone a round, and before he steps into view of his own bedroom, he sheds off his sports bra.

... No. Not yet. He hates the feeling of having _them_ loose, flabby and round and free. A constant reminder of how heavy his chest is, and how it doesn’t match the image he wants. Biting into his bottom lip, he tugs the sports bra back on and readjusts. Iwaizumi hopes he doesn’t disappoint Oikawa or Hanamaki with this.

“Hajime, I can hear you breathing out there and something is seriously wrong.”

“I concur. It’s the fact he’s not here, with us. Right, Tooru?”

“Exactly~. You’re missing out on all the fun, and this is supposed to be for you!” Iwaizumi exhales through his nose with a masked laugh, stepping into the doorway as he rubs at the back of his head. Oikawa and Hanamaki are tangled up on his bed, but the duvet has been neatly folded up and placed across the room. 

Both of them have swollen lips and are down to just their underwear, gaping at Iwaizumi with awestruck eyes. They’ve seen him like this a thousand time in the changing room, but it’s different with the knowledge of what they’re about to do, the telling damp patch in the front of his boxers, and a blush that is subtle but _seductive_.

“Hope you don’t mind the bra. I’m not- It’s not comfortable to take it off yet.” Hanamaki sits up, opening one arm to gesture Iwaizumi into it. He pads over and climbs onto the bed, sitting next to Oikawa and in front of Hanamaki. Oikawa shuffles to sit behind him and pulls Iwaizumi back into his lap, pressing his strained erection into the cleft of Iwaizumi’s ass, through their layers of clothing. Hanamaki gently pushes them both backwards until they’re almost lying down, propped up only a pillow. He licks the shell of Iwaizumi’s ear and whispers into it with warm, teasing breath.

“We can work towards that. For now, we’ll ravish you as you are.” Oikawa hums into the crook of his neck, lips vibrating against the tender skin and prompting a quivering moan from Iwaizumi. 

“It’s all about you, Hajime~. We’ll help you love yourself by loving you.” With Oikawa’s hands on his hips, tactfully alternating between squeezing and circling, and Hanamaki’s hands dancing up and down his sides – careful to avoid his injury – it’s hard for Iwaizumi not to make a sound. There’s a pair of lips on the left of his neck and a pair of lips on the right, mouthing and nipping and sucking in just the right ways to make him unravel. Every now and then, they’ll graze over a sensitive spot that makes him breathless, teasing him for a good ten minutes.

“T-Takehiro... Tooru... Please. I- I need...” He trails off, biting his lip as he squeezes his thighs together to try and hold back. It won’t be long before they tip him over the edge with nothing but love bites and tender touches, if they keep this up. There’s a breathy chuckle over his ear and Oikawa’s voice comes through with a deep, gravelly undertone, dripping with lust.

“We’ve got time, Hajime. Remember; It’s all about you.” Iwaizumi jolts as a wave of pleasure racks his body, but it’s not a release, not yet. He recalls what Matsukawa said about these two running him ragged, and realises just how entirely serious he was. Iwaizumi _knows_ that they’re going to make him cum over and over again, until it feels like his body fits, despite not matching the gender stereotype. For some reason, that kind of turns the heat up a notch. 

“ _Hajime_...” Hanamaki’s breathless gasp in his ear turns out to be exactly what he needed to push him over the metaphorical cliff edge, whining in a low pitch as he tries to press his hips upwards or downwards for friction, ending up messily rocking between them with no gratification whatsoever. Their bodies are too far apart for him to feel both at once, something they have undoubtedly planned so they can ‘take things up a step’ in several instances. 

Dexterous fingers move from his sides to the band of his boxers. As if that wasn’t enough to get the point across, Hanamaki gives the band a soft tug. At the same time, Oikawa’s hands move from his hips to his chest, caressing his breasts through the sports bra. He feels electric under the touch, and even though he hates his prominent chest lumps, it’s _really_ good, especially when the touch presses into a nipple.

“May I?” Incapable of words from the ministrations, Iwaizumi nods. He feels the material travel down past his thighs, past his knees, to his ankle agonisingly slow, teasing him to the point of frustration. Iwaizumi leaned forwards to say something in irritation, but at the exact moment his mouth opened, Hanamaki pressed a hand against his warmth, still sensitive from coming just a moment ago and fulfilling the ache to be touched. His head jolts back in pleasure with a loud moan, rutting his hips against Hanamaki’s flat palm and just trying to get _more_ \-   
He would have forgotten Oikawa were there if he wasn’t abruptly pinched through the bra. It’s a great feeling, but it isn’t enough. The tentative kisses placed alongside the shoulder strap convince him fully of what he wants to do.

“T-Tooru, please. Take it off.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Please! Before I change my mind.”

“If you’re going to change your mind, I’m not taking it off. Hajime, I want - _we_ want you to be comfortable the whole time.” They’ve stopped teasing him. Stopped touching him. He can’t see Oikawa’s expression, seeing as he’s on Oikawa’s lap, but if it’s anything like Hanamaki’s, they’re dead serious and doing this out of love. Iwaizumi breathes out steadily.

“Then- Then at least put your hands _under_ it. I need to feel you...” The compromise puts a smile on both their faces, and Hanamaki gently resumes rocking the palm of his hand against Iwaizumi’s genitals, whilst Oikawa snakes his hands under the sports bra, navigating Iwaizumi’s breasts by fingertip, smoothly gliding over the soft flesh and changing the pressure according to how sensitive that part was, judged by Iwaizumi’s reaction to the touch. 

“Hajime, can I touch you? Properly?” The request spurns such a heat is his cheeks, Iwaizumi thinks he could implode. He rolls his hips downward, pressing himself into Hanamaki’s hand, hard. He knows he probably left a wet mark on Hanamaki’s palm with that move of silent consent, but he’s pretty sure Hanamaki doesn’t mind. If the way he licks his lips and his eyes hood mean anything, it’s that Iwaizumi’s crafty move just made him crave the opportunity even more. 

Iwaizumi expects to find a finger amongst his folds next. Much to his surprise, _both_ touches draw away.

“Wait, no, what-?” Oikawa laughs into his ear, giving Iwaizumi a reassuring squeeze around the waist before redacting the physical contact, except for where Iwaizumi leans back against him.

“Don’t worry, we’re just making thing a little more... Interesting~.” Hanamaki’s hands slide under Iwaizumi’s arms and lift him up on trembling legs to allow Oikawa to shuffle into a sitting position, the pillow pushed aside to get a proper seated angle. He shunts off his boxers and pats his lap for Hanamaki to lower Iwaizumi back down.

“O-Oh.” A cock presses against the cleft of his ass all the way to just below his labia, and Iwaizumi experimentally shifts back and forth. It draws a prolonged groan from Oikawa, and separates Iwaizumi’s folds just enough for some of his natural lubricant to drip down and provide a better consistency for rubbing against.

“Hold on. We don’t want any accidents, no matter how stupid it seems right now.” Hanamaki holds up a foiled square and rips it open with his teeth, Iwaizumi and Oikawa watching with wide, impressed eyes.

“That’s hot.” Smirking, Hanamaki reaches down and pushes Oikawa’s cock down, away from Iwaizumi’s crotch, to roll the condom over it. He gives Oikawa a firm squeeze before pressing him back up and against Iwaizumi, the tip of his penis just below the clit. 

“Rock yourself back and forth, Hajime.” Sceptically, (and yet embarrassingly turned on by Hanamaki’s demanding tone), Iwaizumi does just that and the bedroom is filled with a sharp, high-pitched whine. The head of Oikawa’s cock pressed against his neglected clitoris, pressure added by Hanamaki’s fingertips, and it sets him on _fire_. Hanamaki watches with a smirk and tugs his own underwear down with his free hand as Iwaizumi’s rocking loses rhythm and Oikawa’s upwards thrusts start to falter. 

They’re both getting close, so Hanamaki swiftly puts a condom on himself and presses the underside of his own cock against Oikawa’s with gentle thrusts, removing his fingers to grip Iwaizumi’s hips and assist him in a faster paced rocking motion, gradually bringing all three to a standstill in which _someone_ had to do something differently, or the build up would be so aching slow, they would finish all together and no one would be left to start the next round before Iwaizumi lost his sensitivity. 

“H-Hajime!” Oikawa jolts upwards with enough force to throw them both off his lap just a little, and the new angle puts him in the perfect position to have pressure on the slit of his cock, which turns out to be his delightful undoing. As Oikawa sits back boneless and flaccid, Hanamaki pulls Iwaizumi into his own lap, crossing his legs for Iwaizumi to sit on. Gently, he presses their lips together and swallows the soft sounds Iwaizumi makes as they rut against each other. They break the kiss for air and Iwaizumi buries his face in Hanamaki’s collarbone, breathing ragged.

“I’m getting close, ‘Hiro.”

“I know, I know. Just let it happen.” Long fingers trail down his left side and over a thigh, slowly dancing inwards until finally - _finally_ \- Hanamaki strokes over his folds and slicks up his fingers with Iwaizumi’s wetness and circles a fingertip around the ring of muscle before slowly pushing it in to the second knuckle. Iwaizumi tenses up and shivers at the penetration, his vagina squeezing as he moans and clenches his thighs.

“Relax, Hajime...” Taking a deep breath, Iwaizumi tries to force himself to relax, but it’s not until Oikawa starts rubbing his back that he’s able to stop tensing up. Hanamaki wriggles his finger to check that it’s okay, and when he feels the nod against his collarbone, begins to slowly thrust it in and out. He can feel and hear Iwaizumi’s breath against his skin, adjusting the speed and timing of fingering him to bring Iwaizumi teetering on the edge, and then drawing him back again. 

“Takehiro, please! Stop teasing m-me _eeeOhHolyfUcK _-!” With a smug smirk, Hanamaki feels Iwaizumi clench around him, nails digging into his back and scraping, and his finger squelching as he keeps thrusting it into the tight heat, drawing Iwaizumi’s orgasm out for as long as possible. Instead of stopping, however, he prods a second finger against the folds and presses a thumb to his clitoris.__

__“Just getting started~.”_ _

__“You’re a dick.”_ _

__“Maybe, but you’re gonna be taking it soon.”_ _

__“You probably won’t need to add that second finger then.” Hanamaki’s jaw drops with comical disbelief, but it’s only partially serious because he is _highly_ impressed. Iwaizumi crosses his arms over his chest and looks into Hanamaki’s eyes with a smug grin, chin pointed upwards in challenge. From behind, Oikawa hisses with laughter, muttering a small ‘yikes’ under breath. _ _

__For some reason, it’s _that_ which flicks a switch in Hanamaki and he straightens his posture to ease Iwaizumi off his lap pulling his hand away. His breath hitches at the removal, but he’s visibly confused until Hanamaki leans forward and growls a demand into his ear._ _

__“On your hands and knees, _now_.” Oikawa sits up with interest as Iwaizumi scrambles onto his hands and knees with his back to Hanamaki and face hovering above Oikawa’s cock with a dusty rose blush._ _

__“Oikawa, hold his legs apart a little.”_ _

__“Oooh, gladly.” His arms are long enough to slide down Iwaizumi’s sides and tuck under his hips, placing a firm, sturdy hand on each inner thighs and gently pushing them apart with Iwaizumi’s compliance. The movement presses his body forwards and he feels the head of his cock press against Iwaizumi’s cheek. Seeing as he’s removed the soiled condom, pre-cum smears on Iwaizumi’s cheek._ _

__“Oi, Tooru. Put something on before you dick my face.”_ _

__“Oop, sorry! ‘Hiro, can you pass me...?” He doesn’t even have to finish the sentence before Hanamaki passes over a purple foiled square – the extra thin ones. Oikawa’s eyes brighten up because he knows _exactly_ what purpose they serve. It was agreed when they first became sexually active with each other that they wouldn’t risk the extra thin ones for vaginal sex._ _

__Iwaizumi has enough insecurities and dysphoria; they’re not going to add an unwanted pregnancy to the list._ _

__Oikawa opens the packet and rolls the condom on quickly before returning to his former position. Looking at him with wide green eyes that are unfittingly innocent, Iwaizumi licks his lips to wet them and maintains eye contact as he opens his mouth and moves to take Oikawa into it. He yelps and almost jumps off the bed._ _

__With no warning or hesitation, Hanamaki has pushed two fingers in as far as he can, pumping Iwaizumi’s vagina at all the right angles and making him quiver and moan. His eyes are watering because Oikawa is trying to entice him into oral, and Hanamaki isn’t relenting, it’s starting to get overwhelming and he’s just _so sensitive-__ _

__“Red!” They freeze. Iwaizumi holds back a choked sob but it comes out a whimper, which prompts Oikawa into slowly shuffling out from under him and off the bed. He whispers soft words of reassurance that Iwaizumi isn’t really focusing on the pain as Hanamaki draws back steadily, making sure not to cause too much friction from the removal of his fingers._ _

__“Easy, Hajime... Roll onto your side, gently... That’s it, lie down. We’ll take care of you now.” Oikawa jogs out the bedroom and down the hallway, stopping at the top of the stairs to call for Matsukawa. By the time Matsukawa comes up, carrying a tray of drinks, snacks, and baby wipes, Iwaizumi has calmed enough to lie on his back with Hanamaki right next to him, softly kissing his cheek._ _

__Matsukawa smiles lovingly at them and sets the tray aside to pass Oikawa and Hanamaki their clothes. They dress; discarding of used items in the bin under Iwaizumi’s study desk, and promptly start to unfold the duvet. Taking the baby wipes from the tray, Matsukawa is gentle and feather light – yet thorough – in making sure Iwaizumi is clean and sanitary. Considering how Iwaizumi flinches and hisses under every touch, he’s pretty sure Oikawa and Hanamaki completely _wrecked_ him._ _

__“What the hell did you guys do...? He’s sensitive as fuck.” He finds Iwaizumi’s boxers and helps to slide them on as Iwaizumi pulls on a pyjama shirt from under his pillow. Oikawa squawks indignantly._ _

__“We did nothing!”_ _

__“Don’t listen to him, Issei. They were horrible. Absolutely torturous.”_ _

__“Okay, so, we _teased_ him way past the brink twice, and then I was admittedly a fair degree too rough... Sorry for that, Hajime.”_ _

__“It’s okay, I forgive you. Just... Please cut your nails before next time.” Guiltily, Hanamaki looks down at his nails and mutters a small ‘oops’, which makes Matsukawa snicker as he eases a hot water bottle under Iwaizumi’s lower back. It’s not as good as a warm bath, but it’ll help to prevent residual aches._ _

__Being the closest in proximity, he gets snuggling privileges, so once Iwaizumi has finished a glass of orange juice and nibbled a sandwich, Matsukawa lies down next to him and embraces him from the side, chin resting on top of Iwaizumi’s head as strong arms wrap around his middle. Oikawa and Hanamaki take opposing corners of the duvet and lift it up so that it flutters down atop the two of them, adjusting it so that it only comes up to Iwaizumi’s shoulders._ _

__“Hey, Tooru, come help me with something in the bathroom.”_ _

__“Are you _still_ hard?”_ _

__“I didn’t get to cum!”_ _

__“Geez, how did you keep that up? I went soft out of fear at the safeword!”_ _

__“I’m a young, sexually active teen! Not a saggy sack of senior semen!”_ _

__“Geh! You’re only five months younger than me!” They argue all the way into the bathroom, silly banter that immediately quietens as soon as the door is closed, so Iwaizumi is pretty sure Oikawa is putting his mouth to better use than making noise. He’s snapped out of his thoughts when Matsukawa gently jostles him._ _

__“You okay?”_ _

__“Mhm, yeah. It just completely overwhelmed me.”_ _

__“Were they too rough?” Calloused fingertips comfortingly circle his back, a warm hand under his pyjama shirt but not quite reaching the sports bra._ _

__“Takehiro was a bit towards the end, but I know he didn’t mean to. I think I was more sensitive than usual because we haven’t done it for, well, ages.”_ _

__“Yeah, that’s understandable.” They fall into silence as Matsukawa shuffles to make it more comfortable, pressing a distracting kiss into Iwaizumi’s hair so that he doesn’t focus on the tingling sensation of moving, which could possibly hurt._ _

__“How are you feeling now?”_ _

__“Good? I mean, the release was nice, but the teasing was-”_ _

__“No, Hajime. How do you feel about _yourself_?” There’s an uneasy pause where Iwaizumi bites his bottom lip and forgets to breathe for a moment._ _

__“I’m... Okay. I think. I don’t particularly _love_ my body, nor do I even like it. But it has benefits. And I’m okay with that. Breasts aside, I sometimes forget that I’m... Y’know. Dfab.”_ _

__“Hey. You’re male, Iwaizumi. No matter what you were assigned at birth.”_ _

__“Yeah. I understand that now. Thanks to you three. Granted, I’ll probably forget as soon as the next insecurity pops up.”_ _

__“We’ll be there to remind you. Promise.” Their eyes meet and their foreheads press together, closing their eyes in favour of sharing barely-there kisses. It’s quiet and peaceful and warm, and loving._ _

__“Party’s over, can we join the chillax session?” Hanamaki saunters out the bathroom in nothing but his birthday suit, swiping his discarded boxers off the floor to redress in and tossing some – ironically – to Oikawa, who is still in the bathroom rinsing his mouth._ _

__“Sure, just don’t bounce the bed like the lump you are.”_ _

__“Wow, Issei, that’s salty.”_ _

__“You’re salty.”_ _

__“ _You’re_ salty.”_ _

__“Can confirm, Takehiro is very salty. Should probably try eating pineapple or something.” Iwaizumi cackles at the insult as Oikawa casually strides past Hanamaki and wriggles his way into the bed on Matsukawa’s side, spooning him from behind and stretching his long limbs over to attempt cuddling Iwaizumi._ _

__“... That is _thrice_ I have been insulted in this bedroom today.”_ _

__“Come over here, we’ll make it up to you.” Iwaizumi lazily lifts on arm as if to sweep him over, and Hanamaki kneels on the edge of the bed before flopping down across all three of them. They complain and groan in unison as he laughed dramatically with a touch of evil._ _

__“I have avenged my pride. Remember me this way.” Closing his eyes, Hanamaki does not move to get under the blankets or in the safe little huddle the other three have established. Matsukawa is taking most of the weight, but he ruffles Hanamaki’s hair affectionately, then returns to wrapping both arms around Iwaizumi, who clings back like a koala, with his legs entangling in Matsukawa’s._ _

__“Hey. I love you all.”_ _

__“Aww, Issei~! I love you too! And Hajime and ‘Hiro!”_ _

__“Gotta admit, this couldn’t get much better. Love you gays too.”_ _

__“Mhm. I love the four of you with all my heart. And... Thank you for putting up with my dumb insecurities.” Tinged with sleepiness, their voices have dropped to whispers, drawn into the lull of sleep, yet not quite embraced in unconsciousness._ _

__“S’not dumb, we understand.”_ _

__“We’ll always be here for you.”_ _

__“Chin up, Haji-chan, we’ll fight the demons off for you~.” There’s silence for a second as someone yawns._ _

__“... Wow, Tooru, that was lame.”_ _

__“Oh Shh. I’m tired okay.” Iwaizumi huffs an amused chuckle, because Oikawa might be tired, but he is _exhausted_. Matsukawa feels him dropping off in his arms and steals one last kiss before Iwaizumi is gone, in a deep enough sleep that he’s not sure even fireworks would wake him._ _

__Oikawa goes next, and he doesn’t feel when Hanamaki nods off, but soft snores come from his direction after a little while, so it’s safe to say that he’s asleep too. Nestling into Iwaizumi’s hair, Matsukawa settles down himself and steadies his breathing. Before he slips into slumber, he registers the feeling of Iwaizumi’s chest rising and falling, the sports bra not doing much to hide his breasts. Matsukawa doesn’t mind. He loves every inch of Iwaizumi, even the prickly personality on irritable days._ _

__It’s going to be a long time before all those insecurities go away, but for now, they’ll do their best as his partners to make him feel reassured, loved, and confident in his own body._ _

**Author's Note:**

> How was that for the first time writing smut?   
> Hope you liked it!


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